


chasing equilibrium

by fannishcodex



Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal Abuse, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family, Family Angst, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gen Work, Harm to Animals, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Physical Abuse, Post-Apocalypse, Slow To Update, Talking Animals, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishcodex/pseuds/fannishcodex
Summary: AU. In a split second, Lio made his decision—he would get Hugo now, and then convince Song they had to leave tonight. That should make their escape go faster.
Relationships: Kipo Oak & Scarlemagne | Hugo, Lio Oak & Scarlemagne | Hugo, Lio Oak/Song Oak, Song Oak & Scarlemagne | Hugo
Comments: 38
Kudos: 236





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting my take on what I happily think is a big fic AU in the fandom so far, last I checked. Thank you editoress for encouragement and the idea of Lio’s anxiety.

The birthday cupcake lost more taste the longer Lio felt Dr. Emilia’s gaze linger on him. When he dared to glance in her direction, she was already leaving the small celebration with notebook in hand and distant excuses on her lips. But Emilia had left Lio unsettled, as she now often did.

Not just her this time though. It felt like everyone had watched him at various intervals and with differing levels of scrutiny, even as they celebrated a colleague’s birthday. More people had asked after Song. Some had insisted she come to the clinic. Others had said a medic could visit their apartment. Precautions for infectious diseases could be taken for an examination, they said. Still haven’t found any records of this burrow pox, they mused.

All the while, Lio could hear and see what went unsaid but seemed to ring loud and clear to him—the growing skepticism, the expanding accusations, and the deepening questions.

Familiar anxiety swept through the scientist. Lio’s mind raced and blurred. Tonight. They had to leave tonight. Logistics—packing—gathering everyone—how—timing—speed—quiet—

Trying to maintain the appearance of composure proved difficult while his thoughts burst forward in a rush for attention. He had to focus, pick a step, and then the next, and the next one after that....

_When to get Hugo?_

Lio rapidly debated with himself before making a split decision—Hugo first, then Song and the baby. He was still at work, closer to where Hugo was confined. He could steal a key card. Today’s shift was wrapping up, and—stomach twisting at the thought—Lio knew Hugo’s sweat would be collected soon and the damned machines would be turned off for the night.

His stomach twisted again when he realized Hugo would have no chance to rest after the day’s torment. But Lio would carry him. Though there was the possibility that the young mandrill’s adrenaline might kick in and grant him more energy when he realized what was happening, Lio planned to carry him.

While his mind continued to race, Lio told lingering coworkers to go on ahead and continue the birthday celebrations while he closed everything up. They wouldn’t have to worry about it, he’d take care of it—no, no trouble at all—no thanks, he really couldn’t, he had to get back to Song.

Though suspicions were growing, birthday cheer was still in the air to distract. Even Emilia would be slightly delayed. She clinically tolerated niceties like this in the interests of keeping morale up, and that was out of the most mechanical desire for a functioning workforce. 

When he was finished, Lio took the familiar route to what was now Hugo’s cell.

_No._ The scientist’s stomach gave another twist. _It had always been Hugo’s cell._ The current situation made it harder to pretend anymore.

For months, Lio had been able to slip in and visit Hugo when he could. His heart hurt to think of the times he didn’t. It had recently happened again; he’d been absent the last few nights.

But this would be the last visit; Hugo wasn’t leaving his sight after this, not him or Kipo. (With another guilty twist in his gut, Lio realized he hadn’t yet told Hugo that he and Song had already decided on a name for the baby.)

Resisting the urge to run, Lio’s thoughts raced ahead. This move held risk, but the whole escape did. Honestly, Lio was aware he was still running on adrenaline and anxiety. How coherent was his strategy? But he had to move fast. If Lio was determined to have his family leave now, it might be best to set the clock and just take the leap. Start with risk to spur them all forward. There would be a small window to grab Hugo and take him before Emilia or anyone else noticed. That would demand they move quickly. 

And it may be manipulative, but Lio couldn’t deny hoping that the sight of Hugo would help convince Song that leaving tonight had to be done. Yes, it was better to get Hugo first, rather than later.

* * *

The night buzzer blared, and Hugo collapsed to all fours as the treadmill finally ground to a halt. The young mandrill was left gasping, with his eyes still squeezed shut. It had been a while since the daily effort had driven him to exhausted tears by the end of it—something he interpreted as further proof his body was gradually getting used to the strain, something he took as hollow comfort—but his eyes still squeezed shut by the end of a run, and it would be a while before he could force them open even for a little bit. Still, no fit of exhausted crying was better; less embarrassing, and it never felt good when his freakish sweat mixed with his tears, it just made everything in his eyes sting more.

Hugo’s stomach lurched, and panic seized him. Moving as fast as he could, he barely managed to move his head away from the treadmill and hang it over the floor when he threw up what rations he’d been allowed for break hours ago. 

The first time Hugo had thrown up on the treadmill, Zane had shouted and kicked him before cleaning up his mess with a frown. When he threw up on the floor another time, he feared the human would have the same reaction. But he had only looked disgusted and cleaned up the mess without hurting him.

After that, Hugo tried to aim for the floor whenever he couldn’t keep his bile down. Whenever he slipped up and made a mess on the treadmill again, Zane would angrily hit him. But that had been happening less as Hugo’s reflexes and aim got better. He’d been generally throwing up less too. But it still happened sometimes, like now.

Even retching onto the ground didn’t stop Hugo’s gasping for long, or force his eyes open. His whole body collapsed on the treadmill afterward, heart hammering against his chest, his head throbbing, his limbs lay scattered and feeling like heavy weights. Then the mandrill grit his teeth and crawled off the treadmill and onto the floor, away from his mess.

Now panting, Hugo lay unmoving on the floor, every part of him on fire and desperately wishing to sink into somewhere cool. But over the cries of his aching body, Hugo finally made himself move again. This was for the best, he needed to be on his side where he could breathe a little better. (If he didn’t do it himself, a human would’ve brusquely done it, but he...he preferred doing that himself now.)

Still, Hugo’s eyes squeezed tighter as they again felt more of the glare and heat from the room’s lights. Such illumination became another source of discomfort and intolerable heat while he ran all day. Somewhat blocking them out with his face partially pressed against the floor provided a little more of a reprieve. But the lights would be turned off soon for the night, he just had to wait a little longer.

Though muffled under his pounding headache, he heard the sounds of footsteps and he already ached for the relief he knew was coming. Someone—maybe Greta, hopefully not Zane—roughly pulled him up, held his head, tipped it back, and poured the contents of the water bottle down his throat.

Though his cage had a slot for slipping food and water in for the morning ration, by the end of the day Hugo was too worn out to move. Humans would have to come in and help him drink water. They always came with gloves and other protective equipment covering their bodies, meant to shield against the possible use of his sweat to control them. But Hugo was always so exhausted and his body always aching by the end of a run, and Emilia had continually hammered down her threats, which included using his own freakish pheromones against Lio and Song. The young mandrill was just too drained, hurt, and frightened to try to resist at this point, after months of this torture. His only hope was that Lio and Song would come for him as soon as the baby was born.

Eyes still shut, Hugo hungrily drank, wanting more, needing more. When the bottle was taken away and the human began to leave, the mandrill reflexively clung weakly to their clothing, panting and silently begging. He’d emptied the bottle, but he just wanted more, just a little more....

When the human shoved him off and let him just sink to the floor of the cage, Hugo knew it wasn’t Zane, who would’ve struck him. (Zane never forgot being under Hugo’s control, even if it had been an accident. Hugo wished the human would just leave him alone.)

The mandrill had overheard enough scraps of information to understand that Emilia tried to balance sustaining him for the daily harvest of pheromones with deprivation to provide motivation and exhaust him further, wringing even more mutated sweat out of him. 

Unfortunately, Hugo could not deny that he _did_ end up pushing himself harder for the promise of food and water. 

Though the mandrill often became ravenous with hunger after a run, he was only fed twice a day now. He received rations in the morning and in the afternoon, but never at night. Water remained the only thing he received three times a day, but that was only given along with food and before he was expected to sleep. 

Early on, Hugo had tried to be brave for Lio when he told him this would only last until the baby came (and quietly sought assurance from his father that this would be the case), but it hadn’t taken long for him to crack and desperately try anything to get out of his new fate, including an ill-conceived attempt to resist Emilia by refusing to eat or drink. After being strapped down and force-fed once, Hugo never denied his hunger or thirst again and accepted every ration Emilia allowed him.

Still, the schedule had been marginally less strict before; even Emilia was still refining things back then, especially since she had rushed into shoving Hugo on the treadmill as fast as possible once they all learned what his sweat could do. He had been given a little more food, a little more water, a few more breaks before. He’d passed out more, he’d even gotten sick a couple of times, and there was no getting around that, no matter how much Emilia wished. But Hugo’s own body betrayed him again once it grew accustomed to the daily run after Emilia kept pushing him. And when her efforts to train him up began to pay off, Emilia’s demands and parameters grew harsher, until he was here: two rations and three bottles of water a day, with one break in the afternoon, and he better sleep at night because he would not be allowed rest beyond the time allotted for that.

The few attempts he’d made to feign passing out or fake sickness had not ended well, and he quickly learned that was another thing to avoid. It was another reminder that it was best to just obey Emilia.

Even when Hugo himself genuinely thought his body couldn’t take anymore and he tried to insist he wasn’t lying this time (as if the two previous attempts he made formed a full-fledged pattern that warranted distrust), Emilia only pushed him harder—and the mandrill was always surprised to find that he did have more in him after all. And that always left him with the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that Emilia knew his body far better than he ever could. Hugo was further unsettled by the thought that it made perfect sense; Emilia was a scientist and spent so much time studying his body, figuring out how far she could push it and best harvest it, trying to determine what formula gave him sentience—of course she knew it better. It was another thing that scared him, but it was true.

Hugo had even overheard Emilia mention that mutation also increased his strength and endurance along with other amplified traits, and thus he could be pushed more. That was something the mandrill didn’t understand. While Hugo felt he was getting better at the daily run, it was a minor improvement; each night he was left gasping and drained; sometimes he still threw up and sometimes he was still left with exhausted tears; his whole body always hurt.

He was barely keeping up. Hugo never truly felt strong at all. Just weak, helpless, frightened, and tired all the time now. If he had real strength, they couldn’t always force him to do whatever they wanted....

(Lio said it was wrong to force others...but Emilia didn’t care about that...and while Lio and Song had always been kind, they still made him drink all that formula until they got him to say the words they wanted...them and Emilia and the other scientists, they still, they had always...forced him to...Hugo couldn’t remember ever getting any real choices about...no, stop, don’t think like that....)

The mandrill heard grumbling as someone cleaned up his mess, more footsteps outside his cage, and the buzzing of fluorescent lights. But soon they all faded away. Now it was just his stupid headache, the rapid beating of his heart, and the noise of his agonized breathing. Other than that, it was silence.

Hugo hated the quiet. He always had. Even when he learned the words Lio and Song had wanted him to say and entered what they called their world, it still took him a while to understand why he hated the quiet: things only went so utterly silent when Lio and Song left him. When he was alone.

Learning to make music himself had changed that. He had always loved listening to Lio sing and make music, and had eagerly emulated him and learned from him when he gained understanding. With music, Hugo could make things...not quiet, not silent. Music could fill in the empty spaces and make him feel less alone, it could...it could leave him here, in an even smaller four-wall box and on a near-constant torturous run wringing out every last drop of his sweat, and draining him of everything else.

Hugo’s hands twisted into the fur over his chest, over his racing heart. It took a while to slow down after a run.

_This was his fault, if he hadn’t played the stupid piano_ —

Lio and Song had told him it wasn’t his fault. (Hugo tried to believe them.)

Sometimes the day’s run left him so exhausted he could collapse into unconsciousness, and he wouldn’t have to feel the silence reminding him that no one was here with him, or feel guilt or fear, or think any other wretched thoughts. 

Other times it hurt too much to sleep right away. His belly became a gaping maw hungry for a meal he wouldn’t get until the morning. His body gasped so hard for breath it kept him awake. There was also something outside of his aching body that made it hard to sleep:

Maybe Lio would visit.

But Hugo laid curled on his side, too tired to try sitting up and leaning against the glass of the cage, too tired to try waiting for the possibility that Lio might show up tonight. The desire to see his father always clashed with the demand for sleep—running was always worse if he didn’t get some sleep. Emilia rarely made allowances for any weakness. It would be his own fault if he didn’t get enough rest during the time reserved for that specific purpose.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if Lio had been around lately. His father had been a no-show the last two nights already. Similar had happened before, and Lio would always eventually come back with fervent apologies tumbling out. Still, whenever his father didn’t come, Hugo would get scared, filled with terror that was either a persistent ache or an icy dread that further twisted his agonized body.

The mandrill’s panting started to slow, but his jaw continued to ache. Hugo pondered trying to sit up in a few minutes, maybe he’d feel up for it by then...

“...ugo. Hugo—son, wake up.” A familiar hand was shaking his shoulder, mercifully cold against his fur that was still slick with sweat. Even while sleeping at night he sweat, leaving more stock for Emilia’s assistants to collect in the morning.

The mandrill squeezed his eyes tighter, curled in more, but groggily murmured, “Lio?” Although Lio felt like his father, he rarely called him _son_ ; and Hugo normally just called him _Lio_ , the man had always been that since he was very little.

“Yeah buddy, it’s me—”

Hugo grimaced. He wanted to fall back asleep now. He was so tired, and he needed to rest up for tomorrow’s run, Emilia never cared for his exhaustion (or anything about him). But he really wanted his father too. The mandrill groggily forced his eyes open and twisted his head up—until he didn’t have to, not with a gentle hand supporting his head. The tension in his neck and shoulders somewhat relaxed. Through half-lidded eyes, Hugo looked up at his father, who cradled his head.

“Lio,” the mandrill repeated, his throat still sore after the run, but feeling happier now. He didn’t know what was going on, his father had never been allowed in his cage before—but this was so good. He had missed this.

“I’ve got you,” Lio said, holding him closer, and the mandrill’s head pressed against his chest. Hugo closed his eyes, and he shivered from shock and longing. It had been months since his father had been able to embrace him. “We’re leaving tonight.”

“Really?” Hugo murmured, wondering if he was having a nice dream while his body tried to recover some strength. He had a lot of bad dreams, but sometimes he had nice ones too.

“Really,” Lio said, and his father’s voice rarely sounded so hard.

That woke Hugo up a little more, those his eyes stayed shut. But he was smiling against his father’s chest now, filled with a sleepy anticipation. “The baby’s here?” Though tired, his voice still sounded eager. He had been excited about the baby ever since his parents told him. Song even showed him how the baby kicked, guiding his hands to where they moved in her swelling belly.

No, not them anymore—her. During a nightly visit last month, Lio told him that he and Song had learned the baby was a girl. That had been wonderful news, soothing and encouraging Hugo after another difficult run. He would have a baby sister.

Lio shook his head. “No, not yet, change in plans—we’re gonna leave before the baby’s born—now I need you to be quiet while I take you to our apartment.”

Hugo nodded into his father’s chest. “I will, I won’t mess up again, I really will be quiet this time—”

“You never messed up,” Lio said, his voice softening.

That made the mandrill’s jaw clench, and he felt tears drip from his eyes, still squeezed shut. Then Hugo sobbed into his father’s chest. 

And he had been doing so well, he hadn’t cried tiredly after today’s run; and now here he was, completely unraveling in his father’s arms. 

“It’s okay,” Lio soothed, stroking the back of the mandrill’s head. “Everything’s gonna be okay now…”

Hugo felt the soft whisper of air as Lio lifted him up, and gently moved him around. The mandrill opened his eyes and realized his father now held him on his back. 

“I’m gonna carry you, but I need you to stay awake, all right?” Hugo sniffled, then quietly nodded, and rested his head on Lio’s shoulder. He hadn’t panted while groggily speaking with Lio, and the mandrill hoped to keep it that way, even while he still felt hot all over and his heart continued to pound.

His father murmured that he loved him, then started walking.

The ride on his father’s back was a rapid and silent blur for Hugo. The mandrill spent most of it trying to stay awake. He thought adrenaline would have kicked in by now at the prospect of escape, but his body still felt drained, hurt, and still too warm.

(Taking the plunge was working for Lio so far. After worrying about how to best take Hugo, just grabbing the mandrill and rushing escape in the hopes of somehow taking brief and vital refuge in sheer audacity seemed to actually be working. It had been another long day at work, and enough of his coworkers were still celebrating a birthday, or retiring to their apartments, or grabbing a drink, or taking a break somewhere else within the burrow. Lio managed to dodge and wait for anyone approaching to pass by without crossing paths. He hadn’t spotted Emilia and he didn’t need to pass by her office or apartment to get back home. Lio just had to keep this momentum up.)

Hugo bolted awake with a rush of shame when he heard someone call his name, realizing he had failed his father’s orders again and had fallen asleep. Who had said his name—that hadn’t been Lio’s voice—wait, where—his surroundings were still obscured by a tired blurry haze—

“Hugo, honey, it’s okay, it’s me—”

“Song?” The mandrill quietly said, shaking his head with the hope it would clear his vision. 

Hugo was alarmed when he heard her sob. But soon his sight was blocked out as he felt her arms wrap tight around him, and he was buried in Song’s hug. He eagerly returned his mother’s embrace even as his arms shrieked.

“Oh sweetie, I’ve missed you.” Song’s voice sounded wet and trembling.

Hugo tried to say he missed her too, but his throat tightened and his eyes watered, and he just hugged his mother harder. Then he felt a small kick, and he pulled back with delight, finally feeling some adrenaline fill his body. Like Song had guided him to do months before, he gently placed his hands on her belly, bigger than he remembered.

“How’s the baby? Lio said she was doing well last time he visited—” Then Hugo shyly added, “Lio told me the baby’s a girl—I mean, should be a girl—he said you saw pictures—”

Song laughed, stroking his cheek. “I know, sweetie, Lio told me you knew now.”

Hugo smiled—then swayed, everything spinning. Song gently guided him to lean back, and he closed his eyes at the softness of whatever he now laid against, different from the hard floor next to the treadmill that he slept on, and more like the blankets and pillows he’d had before.

“Where…?”

“You’re in our apartment, on our couch,” Song softly said, stroking the fur on his head. Right, Hugo remembered now; Lio said he’d be taking him there.

“Lio,” Song said, and Hugo opened his eyes to look at her; she had glanced away, and she sounded a little...off? There was something in her tone Hugo couldn’t identify other than it being different. “Did something else happen?”

Then she focused again on Hugo, leaning closer to him, taking his chin and looking him over again, scanning him with a more critical eye that made the mandrill feel self-conscious and a little embarrassed.

“Hugo, are you—” Song seemed to struggle for words. She gently stroked his cheek, looking worried, and the mandrill fiddled with his hands a little. “Did something else happen?...” Song repeated herself, but more gently, and aimed the question toward Hugo instead of Lio now.

“I don’t think he’s hurt worse than usual after all the...but I haven’t checked yet....” Lio softly replied, sitting down on the couch. Then he gently ruffled the fur on top of Hugo’s head. The mandrill smiled, closing his eyes and savoring the physical affection he’d gone months without. 

Song took her eyes off Hugo to look at Lio again. “Why did you bring Hugo tonight?” Then she shook her head, and hugged the mandrill again. Delighted, Hugo gratefully nuzzled against his mother’s arm. “I mean, it’s better sooner than later, but I thought we said we’d get him after the baby was born—but now...we’ll have to leave now—”

“Lio said we’re leaving tonight,” Hugo happily mumbled into Song’s arm, unthinking and uncomprehending of the worrying shift in Song’s tone.

“Lio, we talked about this.” Song’s voice grew more tense, and Hugo looked up at her, confused. “What happened? Why did you change the plan without talking to me first?”

“I thought you knew?...” The mandrill asked her. Then he shot his father a confused look too.

Lio focused on Song. “We have to leave tonight,” Lio told her, his own voice just as tense. Hugo hid his face in his mother’s arm again, clinging to her tighter as he thought of the treadmill and Emilia. “Everyone keeps asking about you, they’re getting suspicious—”

“But the baby—!”

“Song, they’re gonna realize Hugo’s gone soon, and the first place they’ll look is here—”

“I know that! But—damn it, Lio, we can’t go now, the baby’s still—I can’t have the baby on the surface—!”

Alarm and guilt rose in Hugo while his parents argued. The mandrill heard his mother start to breathe harshly, and he clung tighter to her arm. He didn’t know what to do, and his body still ached.

“It’ll be fine, we’ll—”

“ **_No_ **, it’s too dangerous, it’s too—!”

Then Song gave a pained scream and bent over on the couch. Terrified, Hugo let go of her arm and pressed his hands against her back, trying to comfort her without getting in her way.

The mandrill turned to his father, who was already approaching them with a look of alarm that wasn’t reassuring at all. “Lio, she’s hurt—”

Song shrieked and crumbled forward again over her stomach, and Hugo immediately wrapped his arms around her, trying to soothe her like she had done for him before.

“Hugo, stand back,” his father said firmly, and the mandrill immediately obeyed.

Feeling helpless and uselessly fidgeting with his hands, Hugo watched Lio half-carry Song to a bed in the apartment. Waiting anxiously, he watched his parents quickly and quietly whisper to each other. He flinched and clenched his jaw when Song screamed again. Hugo wanted to help, but what should he do?

Lio took a deep breath, glanced at Hugo, then directed him to the closet and told him to grab some large towels. The young mandrill scrambled to obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are super appreciated! Just started imagining this scenario while waiting for canon to redeem Scarlemagne/Hugo because it has to redeem him and give him some real happiness and let all the Oaks be a family. And I really did Google a little bit about “what happens when you run too much” for some more detail and felt worse for Scarlemagne/Hugo as I expected. I just keep thinking about what Emilia did to him and all its unfortunate implications and just how horrible it must have been. Rewatched the “Fun Gus” two-parter and “Sympathy for the Mandrill” for this.


	2. Chapter 2

Though Hugo was scared of even suggesting it, he asked if maybe a doctor should come to the apartment, or if Song should go to a doctor? His mother seemed to be in so much pain. The young mandrill knew a little about doctors, a different sort of scientist that focused only on helping humans when they weren’t feeling well. He could hide if one came, or stay behind if Song had to go to one. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” Song said, trying to smile while sweat rolled down her forehead. “We were planning to have the baby at home anyway—”

She broke off into another pained shout after trying to smile at Hugo. The mandrill again tried to hold her hand, even if she had both of them curled underneath the blankets. Song had refused before, but surely he could place his hand over hers through the blanket.

Song managed to shake her head, giving another strained smile. “No, no, it’s fine—I don’t want to hurt you or Lio,” she repeated herself. Lio had tried the same and already been denied. Instead he gently squeezed his wife’s shoulder.

Hugo cast another worried glance at the supplies he and Lio had gathered—towels and warm bowls of water, a first aid kit, more blankets, clothes and diapers waiting for his sister, and other necessary items. It had been a rush to gather them, but they had been more or less ready to be grabbed; like Song had said, she and Lio had been preparing to have his sister born here.

The mandrill snapped his attention back to his mother when she screamed and moaned again. 

“Oh f—Lio, it’s—” Song bent over again, squeezing her eyes shut. “I—I think this is it—but it’s happening too soon—!”

“I know, I know—it’ll be okay, I promise,” Lio murmured, gently wiping the hair out of Song’s face. When she opened her eyes, they darted around, until they landed on Hugo. Then her eyes darted back to her husband.

“Lio, I don’t want him to see this—he shouldn’t have to see his sister like—”

Hugo immediately clutched at the blanket laid over Song, his eyes alarmed and hurt. “I want to see my sister!”

Lio shook his head. “Oh no, Hugo, Song just means we don’t want you to see your sister like...this....”

“What do you mean?” The mandrill questioned, confused. Then he shook his head, brow furrowing. “I don’t care, I don’t care how she is, I want to see her!”

“No, no, Hugo, it’s not like that—you’re going to see your sister later, but now—”

“ _Lio I don’t want Hugo to see this, put him somewhere else in the apartment_ **_right now_ **,” Song hissed in a dangerously low and ragged voice. Lio immediately took Hugo by the arm and led him away, and the mandrill didn’t resist in the slightest.

“Sorry about this buddy, but it’s the best I can do right now,” Lio apologized as he guided Hugo into the closet they had quickly torn through for towels and blankets. Hugo had actually tried pulling them all down until his father reassured him they didn’t need them all.

Lio immediately grabbed one of the few blankets left behind, a checkered one. He told the mandrill to take a seat, then wrapped the blanket around him. Though it was wonderfully soft, Hugo’s stomach still dropped a little as he suddenly thought of his star blanket and how much he missed it and wanted it right now, how it reminded him of the time before his freakish pheromones and Emilia’s treadmill.... But Hugo kept his mouth shut, thinking now wasn’t a good time, and he had his family with him now—he didn’t need the star blanket his parents had given him when they were right here.

Song wailed again, and Hugo immediately startled at that. He instinctively tried to stand up and leave the closet to get back to her.

Lio gently but firmly pushed him back down. “No, stay here, it’ll be fine—” Then Lio turned away and called to Song, “I’ll be there in a sec, I just need to—”

_“Give Hugo a book or something!”_

“—I’ll do that too, was gonna leave him with something else, but both’s good—”

Eyes widening and ears lowering, the mandrill shook his head and tugged on Lio’s sleeve. “It’s fine, just go back to Song—”

Lio ruffled the fur on his head. “Won’t be long,” he said, then left and closed the door.

Hugo reached out a hand to push against the door, but hesitated. Then he slipped his hand back inside his blanket instead. The mandrill glanced around the closet. It looked a little bigger when largely emptied like this. When he had stupidly wondered where the clothes were, Lio had said they kept them in drawers.

The mandrill flinched when the door opened again, but it was only Lio—of course it was Lio, who else was he expecting? No one, they were fine, safe for now, everything would be fine—

Shoving flashes of Emilia and her assistants to the back of his mind, Hugo looked up at what Lio had quickly returned with.

“Your CD player!” The mandrill excitedly breathed, then made himself very still, eager and expectant as Lio swiftly put the headphones around his head and over his ears. Hugo had loved it when Lio brought the portable machine to his room before Emilia had trapped him.

“Yep, and some books too,” his father said, setting a couple of small paperbacks down and passing the CD player to Hugo. The mandrill looked happily down at the familiar device, his finger about to press the power button—he darted up in alarm when Song shrieked again. Idiot, how could he possibly forget about his own mother in terrible pain?

Lio firmly but still gently made Hugo look at him. “I want you to stay here until I come get you, all right?”

Hugo shook his head, reaching up to take the headphones off. He had already changed his mind, he didn’t want to listen to his mother’s orders. “No, I don’t want to, I want to be with you and Song and the baby—”

His father gave a soft smile. “You will, soon—you just have to wait a little—”

_“I’ve_ **_been_ ** _waiting!”_ Hugo shouted, desperate. And then his hands quickly covered his snout, dropping the CD player. His eyes watered, and he felt so ashamed. Right now Lio really should be with Song, not him. He was in his parents’ apartment, everything would be fine now, he needed to get a grip, they were safe now, nothing would go wrong again....

His father suddenly hugged him, and Hugo felt hot tears slip down his face. Damn it, when would he stop crying? He was sick of it.

“I wanna help more,” he whimpered, slurring his words together. “Song’s—”

“She’ll be fine,” Lio said, pulling back from the hug to face the mandrill again. “You’ve already helped. You’ve gotta still be exhausted after today....”

Sniffling, Hugo shook his head. “I’m fine, I’ve been getting better at running anyway—I can do more if you just tell me like before—”

“You’ll help if you take the time to rest,” Lio said, wiping the tears from the mandrill’s face.

“But—”

Lio shook his head. “You need to rest.” Clearly noticing Hugo’s gloomy and skeptical look, his father elaborated, voice growing grim. “I’m sorry to put you through this, but you _have_ to understand—we don’t have a lot of time. Emilia is going to figure out you’re gone eventually, and she's going to look here first.”

Hugo felt the dread climb up his throat and he struggled to not let it consume him. Somehow seeing the flash of guilt on his father’s face before it hardened only made him feel worse. “You need to recover as much energy as you can, for when you’ll need it later.” Then Lio softened, looking more familiar. “I carried you, and I’ll carry you again if I have to; but after the baby, Song’s gonna be tired too; and the baby won’t be able to really walk by herself for a long time—”

The mandrill’s eyes widened, terrified of Emilia getting her hands on any of his family. He remembered her silent and not-so-silent threats to use his freakish pheromones against Lio and Song. They and the baby would get in trouble for trying to free him.... “I won’t slow you down, I promise—and I’m fine now, I won’t—”

“You’re feeling more adrenaline right now. That doesn’t mean you’re not tired,” Lio gently said. He fitted the headphones snuggly over Hugo’s head again. “I need you to try to rest now—this may be the best opportunity you have for that. I can’t guarantee a set time for it later. Understand?”

“I—you....” Hugo stopped himself from saying his father sounded a little like Emilia and how she tried to schedule when he rested in the interest of running him dry. And he hadn’t thought of that comparison with anger; more with alarm and fear, Lio had just...reminded him of her for a second, and he didn’t like that, not at all. (When would he stop thinking of Emilia? When would she leave him alone? It wasn’t fair, she wasn’t even _here_ , and yet she still haunted him.)

“Hugo?” Lio’s voice sounded a little more stern, and the mandrill flinched. He realized his hesitation could be viewed as further disobedience, but there was no time for Hugo to explain his intrusive fears.

“I—I understand. I’m sorry,” he added in a rush as Song gave another scream. Hugo was just keeping his father away from where he was really needed.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Lio murmured. Then he placed Hugo’s hands back over the CD player. “Listen just to this for now. Turn it up as loud as you can without hurting your ears. Song and I don’t want you to hear anymore of what’s going on outside right now. I’ll come get you when I can. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hugo said in a small voice, and Lio turned the CD player on, pressed play, clicked the loop button, and raised the volume up. His father kept asking him if it was loud enough, and Hugo nodded his head when he could no longer really hear him. Then Lio stood up, turned the closet’s light on, stepped outside, shut and locked the door, and left him alone.

(Again.)

The mandrill looked around the closet once more. Felt bigger with less inside, but still smaller than his room and even his cage. But the blanket around him was comfy and warm, and he had music and something to read, and this was all inside his parents’ apartment.

By the second track, the album on the CD player eventually took his mind off things, and even started to soothe him. But he flinched when his mother’s scream pierced through the sonata. Hugo tried the door, but it was obviously still locked.

“Lio?” He tried. “...Father?” He tried that too.

When Song shrieked again and Lio still didn’t answer, the mandrill’s jaw clenched and his heart pounded. He considered banging against the door.

But he remembered his father’s words, and forced himself to sit back down and try to turn the volume louder. Hugo could push it a little more, but it really was already as loud as it could get without making his ears ache.

Not all of Song’s screams pierced through the CD player. Sometimes Hugo could only register the muffled wailing of his mother under an étude or a waltz, and then he’d repeat Lio’s words louder in his head while guilt and worry made his chest tight.

Finally Hugo laid down, curled under the blanket. Surely this would help him get the rest Lio wanted, and help drown out everything like Song had ordered. And it seemed to be working. The mandrill felt himself start to drift off. Then he heard something.

Though sleep and exhaustion had started to wrap around him while adrenaline began to ebb away, the mandrill bolted up at the noise. Then he stumbled forward, tangled in the blanket as he landed at the foot of Lio at the open door.

Hugo looked up at his father, worried. “Song—?”

“—is fine,” Lio said, smiling—and crying?

His father reached down and helped untangle him from the blanket and pull off the headphones. “She’s with your sister.”

Hugo rushed out of the closet, then went back and pulled a laughing Lio out. 

Together they hurried back to Song on the bed, who held—Hugo’s star blanket?

But when Song turned toward them, the corner of the blanket shifted and Hugo saw a head as small as one of his old toys poke out, blinking wide pink eyes.

“Hugo, meet Kipo,” Lio warmly said.

The mandrill leaned over the bed as far as he could to stare at her, until Song softly laughed and said he could come up on the bed with them. With Lio adding “just be careful,” Hugo climbed up and seated himself on the edge of the bed, staring even more intently at the baby now that he was closer. She was so small. When Lio and Song told him they were going to have a baby, they had shown him a book with pretty watercolor pictures of babies—baby Old World animals and baby humans—but he was still surprised by how small his sister was. And her eyes were the prettiest, shiny like jewels.

Song laughed again, and reached out an arm for him. “Come here,” she said, her voice tired but clear. She was crying like Lio.

While he had dearly missed hugs from his parents, Hugo carefully nestled himself next to Song, remembering how hurt she’d been, and she looked so tired now. He understood; the daily run wiped him out too, just like it had hours before. She was even sweating, just like him. But Hugo was reassured that Song was smiling, and that she was in a comfy bed. Hugo never smiled right after a run, and he would only have a hard floor to rest on.

Then Lio, just as carefully, nestled himself on Hugo’s other side, wrapping an arm around both the mandrill and Song. Lio’s other hand gently stroked Kipo’s cheek, who had turned her inquisitive eyes on him. Hugo leaned into his parents’ touch, ecstatic to be sheltered between them again, and excited to finally meet his baby sister. Joy flooded the mandrill, and he was unable to remember the last time he felt so good.

Then Hugo breathed another content sigh, and opened his eyes to examine Kipo more and further bask in her glory. She was already simply the best, pink as a flower’s petals with gems for eyes. No, there was brown in her skin too, making the pink all the more richer. (Hugo had once read in an art instruction book about the nuances of color mixing, how a blue sky didn’t just have to be entirely blue.)

The mandrill lifted a hand over her head, paused, and then shyly glanced at his parents for approval. When they nodded and Lio said “just be gentle,” Hugo carefully ruffled Kipo’s pale pink hair, trying to ruffle her hair like Lio ruffled the fur on his head.

The baby’s head felt so soft, and she cooed softly. Hugo felt happy, really happy—his eyes closed as he gave a grin showing all his fangs, instinct taking over.

Song had shown him a book that said Old World mandrills bared their sharp canines as a friendly gesture. Knowing that helped make him feel a little less self-conscious when he accidentally did it. Before he had gained sentience, he hadn’t thought much of it when his fangs grew longer and his face changed color; it had all felt normal. When he bared all his fangs at Lio and Song, it had felt like the obvious thing to do since he felt happy.

But after he spoke his name and joined the wider world of his parents, Hugo realized how big and sharp teeth his teeth looked, and understood how they could appear scary. When he slipped up and showed his fangs while feeling happy, he no longer had the certainty of it being a normal sign of joy. And the whole thing made Hugo think about Lio and Song’s formula too, left him wondering how...effective it really was...his instincts still remained and felt overwhelming sometimes...but he didn’t like thinking about that, so he often pushed such thoughts aside. Like now. He would be doing that right now.

But a second too late, Hugo realized he might frighten Kipo. When his eyes snapped open at the horrible thought, he was instead met with a surprise that filled him with delight. “She has fangs like me!”

“What?” Both his parents echoed.

Hugo pointed at Kipo, who grinned back at him with her own set of fangs. They were smaller than his, but she was a baby after all. It was...nice, Hugo was surprised at how nice it felt. Made him feel less...lonely, less like an anomaly.

Lio and Song were—felt like his parents, they were all he had ever known, they were the only ones who had ever shown him kindness, they were all he had...but Hugo had long grown aware of how different he was from them. Lio and Song had pointed out what they had in common—hands, feet, five digits, a beating heart, other traits...but they were still so _different_. He had only ever seen them and other humans; he had never met anyone else like him. So it was...nice, to meet someone else who was even just a little bit more like him.

_“Oh,”_ Lio said once he spotted Kipo’s small fangs. Hugo barely noticed his father share some glance with Song before he turned all his attention back to Kipo where it was most needed.

Though Song and Lio had shown him the book of baby pictures, it hadn’t been very thorough in terms of informative content. Hugo hadn’t been able to read much about human babies at all; the library his parents had built for him didn’t cover them a lot, and they weren’t able to get him more books on the subject like he asked. Lio and Song only told him a little bit about human babies; the mandrill got the sense that they didn’t really want to talk about them. That had confused him, since Hugo knew his parents were excited about the new baby.

Hugo never realized human babies could have sharp teeth like him too. But Lio and Song didn’t really have any. Did humans lose them when they grew up? Or maybe humans could have different teeth. The mandrill also wondered how many colors humans came in. He had seen different shades among the scientists and of course his parents, but none were exactly like Kipo.

Feeling more confident about being gentle with the baby, Hugo softly stroked her chubby arm. He grinned when she grabbed for his own arm, and he put it down before her, letting her stroke it too. Somehow Kipo’s eyes grew even bigger as she rubbed and patted the fur on his arm with both of her small hands.

Then pink fur with spots sprouted on one of her arms, and Hugo instinctively hooted with shocked delight. Kipo smiled, purring back.

“Did you see that?” Hugo asked his parents, again overjoyed. “She has fur like me too!” Lio and Song had shown him how their hair and his fur were similar, and that was something, but it just wasn’t the _same_...but Kipo had some actual fur, just like him! Would she grow even more fur later?

“Yep, yep we saw that.”

“Definitely saw that.”

“I didn’t know babies could do that!” The mandrill said, ruffling Kipo’s head again and still letting her rub the fur on his arm. His baby sister was amazing; everything about her was amazing. The mandrill had a lot to learn about humans when they were so small. He knew humans were primates too; apparently when they were little, they were similar to primates like him, with fur and fangs as well.

“...Yeah!” Song said, sounding really happy. Her voice was really high. “Yeah, that’s—”

She looked to Lio, who had a really big smile on his face...maybe a little too big? Kinda strained?

Hugo looked back and forth between his parents, expectant. “That’s what?” 

His parents shared another look, then Lio said, “We’ll tell you later, buddy.”

The mandrill absently nodded, already distracted with examining Kipo’s hand. There wasn’t fur on it; pink fur only went up to her wrist, leaving the rest of her hand with exposed skin, just like him too. He counted her short fingers—five like him and Lio and Song too.

Kipo was patting and rubbing his arm with both of her hands, but one of them still hadn’t grown fur. Hugo figured it would get some later. Then he remembered something he had wanted to do when the baby came, besides escape.

“Can I hold her? Please?”

Song grinned. “Of course! I’ll show you—” Then she stared at the blanket Kipo was wrapped in.

“Lio, this is Hugo’s blanket,” she said, looking at her husband. “Where’s the blanket we got _specifically_ for Kipo? You know, the one with the musical notes? The one I elbowed Ms. Elmsworth out of the way for—”

“Oh!” Lio said, eyes widening. “It’s—”

He turned around, staring at the stack of towels and blankets he and Hugo had made.

“...somewhere here.”

Song sighed. Lio rubbed the back of his neck, shooting Hugo an apologetic look. “Sorry, buddy.”

The mandrill shook his head, still letting Kipo play with his arm. “I can get it back later.”

His mother smiled. Then she yawned. Lio was by her side in a second. “Hey, Honey, how are y—?”

“On second thought, Lio, can you show Hugo how to hold Kipo?” Song offered the baby to him.

“Of course,” he said. Then Lio gently took her, and showed Hugo how to support her head and be just as gentle, always be gentle with Kipo.

The mandrill had been excited to hold her, had dreamed of holding his baby sister, was still excited to hold her—but now that it was happening, he was starting to feel nervous too. Ruffling her hair or stroking her arm was one thing, but to hold her by himself without Lio or Song—

“It’s okay, you’re doing great,” his father said, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a reassuring smile. Hugo smiled back, grateful.

He wasn’t without Lio or Song though. They were both here with him and Kipo, they were all together now, and they were safe, everything was fi—

Someone pounded on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been doing some *research into mandrills, and was amused to find that baring their fangs at each other is normally a friendly gesture, something that gave me even more feels for Scarlemagne/Hugo (*found this info via websites for the San Diego Zoo and National Geographic). For fic purposes just gonna handwave and say all of Lio and Song’s experimenting also sped up the labor process by accident once it started. Enjoyed starting to play with Kipo’s mutation with Hugo here, when they have a slightly longer, better, more relaxed introduction to each other, and having her pretty much start to instinctively mimic Hugo where she can—she can do fangs and fur too.... (There should be more on that later.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos so far! And we have a season 3 release date, I’m so excited! And I know this may start sounding like another fic summary for a second, but please just keep going (I honestly haven’t read that other fic beyond its summary because I wanted to try to focus more on my own fic for now).

The banging on the door continued, and Hugo would’ve stayed completely frozen with fear if Lio hadn’t firmly taken him by the shoulders. Now the young mandrill was more swaying limply in his father’s hands, though he held Kipo closer. He distantly wondered if his sister could hear his heart starting to beat frantically, while his mind continued to fill with terrified static. _Emilia was going to find them, she was going to use his freakish pheromones against his own family, he was going to be taken from them again, he could not go back to that cage and its treadmill again, he_ **_couldn’t_ ** **—**

“They don’t know I’ve had the baby,” Song said, her voice worn but sharpening with steel. “And if Hugo’s not here—even if they suspect, if he’s not here, they’ll have nothing—they’ll—”

Lio nodded as if he understood that, while Hugo just stared at his parents uncomprehending. Then the mandrill shook himself, and began to go for the closet with Kipo. He and his sister could hide there.

“No buddy, over here,” Lio said gently, and quickly guided Hugo and the baby to the wall, where it had a vent for air. “Just wait here,” their father said, and quickly went back to Song in bed.

“The bag—” Song tried, gesturing weakly, though her eyes were hard.

“I got it,” Lio said, pulling a backpack out from under the bed. “And I’ll get the rest of the pregnancy stuff out of the way, before they see—”

“Just as much as you can,” Song said, starting to stuff some pillows under the covers, in between the blankets and her stomach. When she leaned back, it somewhat resembled her full belly before. Frowning at the image, Song continued to fiddle with the illusion, trying to refine it.

Back to uncomprehending, Hugo watched his father return with the backpack. “Lio, what—?”

The baby yawned, and Hugo looked down at her, watching her little perfect eyes start to droop.

The mandrill flinched when he heard the sound of metal, and looked back up to find his father kneeling by the wall and pulling the vent’s grating away.

“Just give me Kipo for a sec, and put this bag on,” Lio said, his voice strangely calm despite everything going on. Hugo traded his sister for the backpack, and quickly slipped it on while Lio held Kipo close. His father pressed a kiss to Kipo’s forehead, then offered her to Hugo.

“Take your sister through the vents—”

The mandrill recoiled as if burned. He stared at his father with new fear and disbelief. _“_ **_What?!_ ** _”_

Lio reached out and squeezed his shoulder with one hand, while the other cradled Kipo closer. “Song and I will find you two later, but right now we need to buy you time. We’re gonna pretend Song’s still sick, she’s taken a turn for the worse—she’s still pregnant, and we’re shocked that you’re missing—”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, there’s no time,” Lio said, letting go of his shoulder, and this time he gently but firmly took Hugo’s arm and guided it to Kipo. Feeling panic crawl up his throat— _no, they had to stay together_ —the mandrill tried to resist, but Lio moved closer and swiftly forced Hugo’s arm around Kipo, then started to carefully let go. Startled and filled with a new panic, Hugo rushed to hold his sister with both arms as their father released her.

The baby fussed a little, but her eyes remained closed, and she just ended up nuzzling closer to her brother’s chest.

“ _Song_ ,” the mandrill pleaded, looking around Lio to beg her for help. She had to convince him this was the wrong move.

But his mother just gave him an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you soon, I promise.”

Lio took him by the shoulder again and started to turn him toward the opened vent. Though he held Kipo even closer, Hugo turned back and caught Lio’s eyes.

“Father, _please_ , don’t—”

Lio hugged him, and Hugo couldn’t stop looking at Song over his father’s shoulder. Sweating and looking exhausted, she still gave him a small, encouraging smile.

Then his father pulled back, and Hugo locked eyes with him again. Lio gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and gave an encouraging squeeze. “Take care of each other until we find you, okay?”

“I...I will,” Hugo managed while his mouth ran dry, and he stared at his father with wide eyes. “We will....”

“It’ll be soon, okay?” Lio gently smoothed back the hair on Kipo’s head. “We’ll find you and your sister soon.”

“O-okay,” Hugo dazedly parroted back—then flinched at another loud bang against the door. The knocking hadn’t stopped, but had briefly become background noise in the face of his overwhelming panic. Now it was loud and clear again.

With a new burst of speed and intensity, Lio suddenly embraced Hugo again, startling him. Then his father pulled away so quickly, Hugo missed his chance to hug him back. After that, Lio grabbed his shoulder one more time and guided him into the vent while Kipo gave another sleepy murmur. Cradling his sister, the mandrill lingered in the vent’s tunnel while his father quickly slid its grating back into place.

“ _Hugo_ ,” Lio said, his voice finally sharpening. 

The mandrill flinched, and said, “Sorry! Sorry, I—”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his father’s, even if they looked harder now.

“Hugo, _leave_.” Then Lio sighed, and said with a more gentle voice, “We’ll be together soon, I promise.” His eyes became soft and warm again, though regretful.

The mandrill remembered that Lio had promised he would come back for him, and he had. Though he felt marginally calmer, Hugo still reluctantly nodded. He was too hesitant to speak again with the sudden tightness in his throat. The mandrill didn’t trust his voice at all.

Though every part of him cried out not to do this, Hugo turned his back on Lio and started to flee through the vent’s tunnel with Kipo.

He held his sister in one arm, and walked with his three remaining limbs. The mandrill wasn’t used to walking like this, and it felt awkward, but it was doable. (Far better than learning to run endlessly on Emilia’s treadmill.) More than doable, some instinct was rearing its head, making him even more aware of the tiny sibling he held....

Focusing on the way he held Kipo and the way he walked with her helped distract Hugo from the terror of the situation. Just think of where to put hand and foot; support her head; be soothed by her breathing and sleepy murmurs.

Irritation and guilt flared up when he stumbled and fell to the floor of the vent, making Kipo start to cry. So much for his mandrill instincts—

The vent was shaking. He hadn’t stumbled on his own. Something was shaking the vent.

Hugo instinctively curled his body around a crying Kipo while fresh new terror gripped him. The mandrill held her close, determined to shield her. He squeezed his eyes shut. The shaking was getting worse.

_What’s happening, what’s_ — _?!_

Noise suddenly grew overwhelming and crashed over them—Kipo shrieked, he screamed, he curled tighter around her—the floor was ripped from them and he curled tighter around his sister—fire—fire in his body—Kipo—

...crying...Kipo was crying—

Hugo grit his fangs. His eyelids were weighed down by something. He struggled to open them, to get up. His baby sister was crying, he had to—

The mandrill felt little sharp hands fisted in the fur of his chest. Kipo’s weight in his aching arms finally registered in his mind. Good, he still held her.

He was slow to open his eyes, but he was making progress. He flinched when something bright slipped through and stung him, making him squeeze his eyes shut again. The horrible fluorescent lights surrounding his cage? But no, he felt...whatever he was lying against, it didn’t feel like his cage, and Kipo was with him...no matter how much Emilia would be angry with Lio and Song, she wouldn’t put a human baby in a cage, she would’ve taken Kipo away to somewhere else first, she would’ve left Kipo with other humans to punish Lio and Song....

Hugo finally managed to open his eyes, and they burned.

He flinched back in pain—and fear, because everything looked too wide and too bright, even brighter than the fluorescent lights above the treadmill. Everything was just too _big_. A billion times larger than the four-corner rooms and cages he’d spent his whole life in. How could things be so big, the world was supposed to have corners...it had always had corners for as long as he remembered....

Hugo’s heart raced, overwhelmed by too many senses at once. He exhaled a small burst of a whimper.

Clutching at his sister, Hugo forced himself away from the terrifying sight to check on her, hoping she hadn’t been hurt. Kipo was wailing, with fur on both her arms now, and little needles on her chubby, naked fingers—claws. That was different from him, and from anyone he’d seen before. Primates didn’t have those. He’d only seen claws in pictures of creatures like wolves and fictional dragons.

The torn strip of the backpack was on her shoulder, with some blood on it.

Even more alarmed, he looked her over for where she was hurt, and double checked, and triple checked. To his relief, the mandrill found no injury on Kipo. But then where had the blood come from?

Pushing that aside for now, Hugo tried to soothe her, and brushed the torn backpack strap off her. He distantly realized he no longer felt the weight of the backpack on him, it must’ve been lost during...whatever destructive thing had happened.

The mandrill froze when the ground shook again. The baby cried louder.

His eyes darted to a nearby cluster of debris. He scrambled to hide behind it, and again tried to soothe Kipo, more intent on quieting and reassuring her. Hugo looked up when a dark shadow engulfed them, and his eyes widened, pupils shrinking with new horror.

A billion times, everything was a billion times bigger here—the tallest creature he had ever seen towered far above them, its enormity renewing his frantic terror tenfold and multiplying his sensory overload. How could a living thing be so _big?_ It looked like...him, a primate, but with too many arms and vacant red eyes that seemed larger than his entire body. Hugo had dreamed of meeting primates like him, especially other mandrills. But this was a far cry from his hopes and dreams. This horrifying behemoth was just so...different, unsettlingly so; his eyes told him it was a primate too, but his heart and mind couldn’t wrap themselves around that reality.

_Mega mute_ , Hugo realized, remembering what Lio and Song had told him. What little they shared did not prepare him for this—for any of this.

And as if he couldn’t be more horrified, there was Emilia on the creature’s shoulder, holding a canister filled with the pink of his freakish pheromones. For a second, Hugo wasn’t sure what terrified him more: the mega mute itself, or Emilia in control of it.

Kipo broke off crying to cough, and Hugo startled, then hugged her close—then drew back, remembering she had coughed, what if that messed with her breathing? He cradled her against his shoulder while trying to give her room for air, and tried rubbing her back.

While he kept his sister close, Hugo glanced at the mega mute and Emilia, hoping they were too high up to notice Kipo and him. The mega’s horrible footsteps shook the ground. The creature was still moving, and Hugo hoped it and Emilia would leave soon.

The baby cried again, weaker this time. The mandrill nuzzled her, and she began to sniffle instead. He contemplated trying to slip away, but feared Emilia and the mega would finally notice them. Fear was paralyzing Hugo, and there was no Lio to shake him out of it this time—

The mandrill’s eyes widened with fresh new horror. _Lio. Song._

After he gave Kipo his fingers to nibble on and she seemed to eagerly accept, Hugo tried to scan his nightmarish surroundings again, searching. Everything was still too horribly big and bright. There was so much debris. The entire world looked like it had cracked wide open, stretching the horizon too far.

After another loud, quaking footstep, Hugo flinched and curled himself around Kipo again, wanting to shield her once more and wanting to become as small as possible. His desire to protect her and his own all-consuming fear collided in an electrifying, paralyzing clash. Hugo could not think of anything else to do. He was barely thinking, the terror—everything was too overwhelming. This was too much.

_Don’tfindusdon’tfindusdon’tfindus_

Hugo stayed like this for what felt like ages. Kipo nuzzled closer against his chest, sniffling and starting to murmur baby chatter, and Hugo had no idea how she could handle his thundering heart, it must have been frantically beating against her little body.

Finally when he trusted the growing quiet, Hugo stiffly uncurled around Kipo. He looked at her again, and she blinked up at him. She still looked fine, thank goodness.

Kipo mumbled something, smiling. Then she reached a hand up, patting his snout.

It stung suddenly, and Hugo flinched back with clenched fangs. The movement had been too fast for Kipo. She stared at him with wide eyes, then started to cry again. But what worried Hugo more was that her small, still furless hand was now a little red with blood.

He checked it, but found no cuts, not on her palm or on her fingers or anywhere. Hugo examined her little claws, and found some of the tips were red too.

His snout still burned, and now his whole head did too. Hugo became keenly aware of every new ache in his body, different from the aftermath of running all day and getting his pheromones harvested, and even different from getting hit by a human like Zane. It was amazing he hadn’t noticed until now—but then again, too much was going on....

Shifting Kipo to one arm, Hugo finally ran a hand over his snout. There—a deep gash ran along the side of it now. He ran his hand where his head burned most, finding similar gashes over his mouth, on the side of his head, and his forehead. His neck stung, and he checked there too—yes, there was another gash. Somehow they weren’t really dripping, which was something; but they were still definitely raw and damp and burned horribly when prodded.

So that’s where the blood on the torn backpack strap came from.

Pulling his stained hand away, Hugo tried wiping it clean on the fur of his knee. Then he murmured an apology to Kipo when he remembered the blood on her own hand, something she’d clearly gotten from his wounded snout.

Over her mewling, he took her stained hand and carefully tried wiping it clean with a part of the star blanket.

Then his heart twisted and he curled his hand tight in the star blanket. He had to find Lio and Song. Kipo was all right, thank goodness. But he’d been hurt, and what if Lio and Song were too, what if they were hurt worse? And Song was still tired from having the baby....

On shaking legs, Hugo climbed to all fours—threes, with one arm wrapped around Kipo, and began to move forward. Until he stumbled back to his knees with a hiss, and the baby cried out. Everything in his body screamed, every inch of him hurt. There was no ignoring it now.

No, he _had_ to ignore it.

Jaws clenched, all of him trembling, Hugo breathed several times into the dirt and then raised his head, and tried again. He got a couple more steps forward before collapsing back down, and Kipo was in tears once more. Hugo murmured “sorry” to her, but tried again; he couldn’t stop, he had to find their parents.

The mandrill told himself it was just like when he was struggling to get used to the treadmill, he’d stumble and fall but keep going because he had no choice, Emilia left him no choice. And he had grown somewhat accustomed to the endless run, it had made him stronger; he could do this. And all the running and having the pheromones wrung out of him every day for months was worse than this, he told himself it was worse.

After a few more attempts, Hugo finally managed a stiff and somewhat steady walk across the wreckage, searching for the rest of his family. Kipo calmed down, nestled close against him and purring.

The mandrill started to think how odd it felt to walk on dirt. Curiously running his fingers through the soil of some small potted plants that his parents left in his room was one thing; this was entirely different. Dirt had never been a surface to walk on while in his room or his cage, or in the few lab rooms he’d been taken to.

He wanted to call out for Lio and Song, but he was still frightened of possibly drawing the attention of Emilia and her mega. The mandrill hadn’t spotted them and the ground no longer shook and he heard nothing of them; but what if they were still close and just out of sight? What if they heard him?

Hugo searched, until he came across debris around what ended up being a large pit. Eager, he started to climb over rubble and edge closer. They had all lived in a burrow, so big holes ripped out of the ground were surely the best place to check—

Hugo froze when he saw the body.

It lay below him on a slab of debris balanced precariously between other pieces of cracked and broken things. It looked far too still, and it looked...wrong. Twisted. And that was a lot of blood pooling around it—

Starting to breathe heavily, Hugo checked on his sister, made sure she couldn’t see. He had never seen someone dead before, and he didn’t want Kipo to see it at all. Fortunately she had fallen asleep. Her face was still curled into his chest, safely away from the awful sight.

Looking back down, the mandrill’s eyes darted around the crumbling pit beneath him. Underneath all the destruction, Hugo thought he understood what it had looked like intact before—a large rectangular hole surrounded by several floors of doors. That central hole appeared dizzyingly deep.

Nothing looked familiar. Up until hours ago, Hugo had never been anywhere but his room, the cage, and some other parts of the lab. He hadn’t really noticed his surroundings when Lio finally rescued him; the ride on his father’s back had been a blurry haze, and then he’d just fallen asleep and didn’t gain consciousness until he was already inside his parents’ apartment.

With his heart in his throat, Hugo spotted a few more bodies scattered around the ruined burrow, some with limbs poking out from under rubble....

Though he started to shake, Hugo carefully moved forward. Lio and Song...Father, Mother, they could be...but they could also still be alive...but they could be...just....

Hugo took another shaky breath, and checked on Kipo again. Still asleep. And looking at her lessened his fears a little. He wasn’t alone. Taking some comfort in that, he started down a tight cluster of debris that served as a new incline down. Eventually the mandrill reached a floor of closed doors.

Hugo carefully sniffed at one, and spotted a small glass screen next to it. He nosed his snout over it, then flinched back when it lit up. The other doors with their own screens glowed to life too.

The screen in front of him had an image of something tightly coiled, and glancing at the one next door showed something similar. Hugo became certain all the doors had the same image on their screens. Though the mandrill prodded more at the door, it was sealed shut. Again, all of them probably were.

But the door had a nameplate next to it. Walking forward and looking at other doors revealed more nameplates and confirmed an alphabetical order. If he kept following them, he’d find ‘Oak’ eventually, his family’s last name. Hugo’s brow furrowed in thought.

All these doors appeared closed, but maybe Oak’s would be open; he had to hope it would be. But more importantly, why would Lio and Song ever stay in their apartment when they were trying to escape, and then during a mutequake? But it was currently Hugo’s one slim lead. Even if they weren’t there, maybe there would be a clue to their current whereabouts. There was also the possibility they might have even got trapped there, and needed help....

With a lurch in his stomach, Hugo stepped over another body, and held Kipo even closer to his chest. She only mumbled calmly in her sleep.

Swallowing hard, the mandrill looked around again. He started to compare the numbers of doors to the bodies he’d stumbled across. Though it felt like a lot to him, they didn’t match. His brow furrowed, thinking.

Maybe a number of people had already escaped, somehow. Maybe Lio and Song were among them.

Or maybe the mega monkey had eaten some of them. Or perhaps a number of bodies were buried so deeply under rubble he couldn’t find any trace of them....

Fighting back another shiver, Hugo focused on just putting hand and foot in front of him. But when he looked down, he saw pebbles start to bounce against the floor.

His eyes widened, and he began to rush back the way he came. Kipo began to stir with a whine. Now everything started to shake again—

A dark shadow fell over them once more, and Hugo ducked behind a large chunk of debris. He held Kipo close as she began to wail. Then the mandrill caught sight of a section of glass, part of a door that faced where they huddled. In its reflection, he saw a terrifyingly large snout followed by a mass of fur start to lower down behind them.

The mega monkey was peeking inside the remains of the burrow.

Hugo’s heart pounded when he heard loud gusts of air—the mega was sniffing.

_Pleasepleasepleaseplease_

His heart didn’t thunder less even when he saw the mega’s reflection start to rise, and its shadow eventually left. It didn’t stop hammering against his chest when the ground started to shake less. When it again became deathly silent and still, and Kipo’s cries had faded to sniffles, Hugo remained frozen. He felt his heart would burst any second.

A little rumble against his body finally snapped him out of it. That hadn’t been another rattling step from a mega. Hugo looked down at his sister.

“...Have you eaten?” He croaked, voice now far too calm even if it came out like a hoarse scrape against his throat. Was this a new wave of shock? Had too much happened too fast and he was starting to detach?

Kipo only nuzzled against his arm.

“No, of course you haven’t, you were just—”

Hugo took a breath. Deep-seated instincts started to seize him. He had to find food and water for his baby sister.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find something to eat, all right?”

Holding Kipo close, Hugo retraced his steps and left the ruined burrow. He could search for Lio and Song again later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually think “Lio/Song instead give baby Kipo and the backpack to young Hugo and tell him to just take her and get out through the vents” is an AU idea that people could jump to when diverging from canon, but still shout-out to “Mutes and Humans don't mix” by Snackleggg for also exploring that idea, and I honestly haven’t read their fic beyond skimming their summary because I’ve been focused more on writing my own Kipo fic.
> 
> I definitely watched some clips of Kala and Tarzan from the animated Disney movie for this.
> 
> I think one of the ways Hugo/Scarl’s time on the surface was worse than Kipo’s was because he lived in more serious confinement before then; I get the feeling he was never really allowed to leave his original room except for some other areas in the labs and that was mostly for additional experimentation (i.e. canon literally has Hugo moved to another more lab-specific area when Emilia and her assistants confront Lio and Song about Hugo’s sentience, and then Emilia orders Zane to take blood from Hugo). And then Hugo was trapped in an even smaller cage for probably months (I feel like Emilia started harvesting Hugo for his pheromones when Song was relatively early in her pregnancy, though she had started showing signs of it). In contrast, it’s been shown that Kipo’s Clover Burrow was pretty big and she was pretty much allowed free reign of it. (And of course Kipo was fully raised like a daughter and never treated as an experiment, even if she was parly born as one—but that’s for another post.) Before the collapse of the DNA Burrow, I think Hugo’s world was essentially confined to four walls, and it was a sensory overload and horrible shock to be thrown on the surface where everything is so much wider and bigger than what his limited upbringing had made him used to. Like, there’s serious emotion when he snaps that he was thrown into a world a billion times larger than anything he’d ever imagined; and serious emotion slips in when earlier he emphasizes the hope to live someday without any walls containing them. So I think before the burrow collapse Hugo had lived utterly confined to small spaces, and that deeply affected him.
> 
> Also when writing this part, I began thinking that Hugo never really walked on dirt until the DNA Burrow collapsed, he’s only walked on artificial materials (I finally noticed some small potted plants in his room pre-cage while watching “Sympathy for the Mandrill” again).
> 
> For this chapter, I went into some other headcanons I have about more details on Hugo/Scarl’s time alone, such as trying to find Lio and Song and finding quite a few bodies instead (adding more to his overall trauma), Emilia having Mega Mute Monkey Song linger (she was looking for Lio, Kipo, and Hugo); and then I just imagined if Kipo was there with Hugo instead of being all alone. I was thinking there may have been serious casualties after Song went Mega, before Emilia got her under control; also thought the bodies would’ve decayed over 13 years and Fun Gus would’ve covered up any remaining traces during that time (and maybe even consumed them).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The season 3 ending did not happen. Working on some fix-it fic, but here’s an update on this one until then. Features a mix of some mandrill research and just taking scientific liberties with them.

Hugo crossed the expanse of recent ruin, and reached an older site of destruction populated by wrecked buildings overgrown with large trees. He shivered and held Kipo closer; though all were cracked and broken and none of them stood up straight, the ruined buildings still towered frighteningly over him and his sister. Then the young mandrill shook himself and continued searching for food.

Though spooked by the buildings, he tried looking inside one. So far, he had little luck finding anything edible inside the ruins. Not even from any trees; he had only seen them high on the buildings. He hadn’t found any trees lower down yet. Hugo went back outside, thinking he could alternate his search between there and the other buildings.

His senses were still in overdrive. Too many new sights and sensations, the world was too big....

But as Hugo foraged for food, he felt his fear and anxiety lessen a little, as something—instincts?—began to take hold. He sniffed at grasses scattered around, feeling his mind somehow focus and go distant at the same time. When Kipo’s small belly rumbled again and she whimpered, he nuzzled her and gave out a low soothing hoot until she started to purr in response.

He pulled experimentally at some grass with his fangs, his mind a bundle of unconscious thoughts—Hugo flinched back, realizing this felt familiar. It was like when he hooted and panted in excitement or some other high emotion, or bared his fangs when he was happy, it was like the dim memories he had of the time before...before joining Lio and Song’s world.

Hugo squeezed his eyes shut as Emilia’s voice came back to haunt him.

_It was a particularly bad morning. They were always bad, but today felt worse. Hugo had barely gotten any sleep, and the little he got was punctuated by nightmares still fresh on his mind. He did not want to run today; he never did, but he_ **_really_ ** _didn’t want to right now. He just wanted to be home with his parents and the baby...._

_When Emilia came with the morning ration and clipboard under her arm, Hugo felt his frustration boil over. A storming, angry cloud overwhelmed his mind and he threw himself against the cage toward her. He angrily hooted and screamed and howled. He was barely thinking, everything felt fuzzier and yet somehow more overwhelming at the same time._

_Hugo felt his mind more fully return when he slowed down and panted on all fours, chest heaving, damned sweat already dripping down his stupid snout. His first conscious thought after that was regretting...whatever just happened; he snapped, he just snapped, that was all, he told himself that was all. Either way, he already bitterly regretted the whole thing; he was only wasting precious energy before his run today._

_When Hugo raised his head and tiredly glanced at Emilia, she only regarded him with a vacant calm. She idly tapped a pen against her clipboard. Emilia had already placed the ration down on the piano that was horribly still here, kept out of reach and taunting him, reminding him of how he got here._

_“Perhaps whatever Song and Lio did isn’t permanent,” Emilia said._

_Hugo turned away, already closing his eyes. “Stop,” he hoarsely begged in a small voice._

_He hated it whenever Emilia was in a talkative mood. He loathed their occasional “conversations.” Hugo thought she only started them to wear him down in an effort to get him to slip up and expose his parents in some way. Emilia had tried questioning him about Lio and Song before, clearly suspecting them of secrets and trying him as a source._

_“You’ve had lapses and expressed non-sentient instincts before,” Emilia continued. “It could be because you aren’t a natural-born mute; or perhaps whatever formula iteration the Oaks used isn’t as effective as we thought, perhaps it’ll run its course, and you’ll revert back to—”_

**_“Shut up!”_ ** _Hugo screamed, whirling around on Emilia with a glare and bared fangs. And then he recoiled back, realizing what he had done. Fear of the consequences flooded through him. His mindless outburst before was one thing, and that hadn’t seemed to bother Emilia; verbally snapping at her like that could be different._

_But still, Emilia showed no signs of anger. “You must’ve had similar lapses when you were alone with the Oaks. They must’ve commented on it, once or twice.”_

_Emilia was disturbingly close to the truth; such a thing had happened with Lio and Song before, though they had been far more comforting and reassuring. But Hugo wasn’t about to admit to that, or anything else that could further implicate his parents._

_Turning away, he curled up and hugged his knees close to his chest, glaring at the wall. “They said no such thing because they didn’t know what was going on. They weren’t sure if the formula worked on me or not,” Hugo ground out, remembering the lies Lio and Song had tried. They wouldn’t completely fall down if he pretended to corroborate them too. “They were still trying to find confirmation.”_

_He was trapped in a hellish situation, did it even matter if Emilia realized his parents lied about that? Hugo was fairly certain Emilia already suspected they did._

_But he remembered Emilia’s silent threat to use his freakish pheromones against his parents if they stepped any further out of line._

_And Song and Lio apparently knew how to take intelligence away from him and other mutes, or they had a pretty good lead on how to do it.... So far, the lie seemed to be protecting that information. Emilia may suspect, but she still didn’t seem certain, and was apparently unwilling to make a move without her own confirmation._

_“Right,” Emilia said, voice still calm, though Hugo knew she remained unconvinced._

_She then tapped the pen against her lips, considering. “I suppose I should be grateful that while they tried to confirm if you had gained sentience or not, the Oaks didn’t discuss sensitive information in front of you. After all, you had no idea they were only trying to figure out how to revert mutes back to normal, did you?” Her voice became far too smooth._

_Squeezing his eyes shut, Hugo buried his face in his knees, jaw clenched and trembling. He wished he could hide, he wished he could go where Emilia could not find him. He wished he could scream at her that his parents had changed their minds, they didn’t want to be a part of that anymore, they had said so, they said—they had changed, they said they changed their minds, they—they had changed so it was okay now_ — _it had to be okay_ — _they said_ — _they promised they would escape together, they said_ —

_Hugo wished the thought of Lio and Song didn’t make him feel sick right now._

_“Eat,” Emilia commanded, back to a more cold and business-like tone. As always, she quickly opened the small slot of the cage meant for meals, slipped the ration inside, then swiftly closed the slot. (Emilia or her assistants only entered the cage to feed and water him when he was too tired and hurt from running to move, and they always wore gloves and the like to avoid any contact with his freakish sweat.)_

_Though his stomach now churned uncomfortably, Hugo ate his food. It had taken him a while, but he had learned what pace to use for eating that suited Emilia_ — _not too slow so that it wasted her time, not too fast so that he wouldn’t almost immediately throw up what he just ate after starting to run._

_When he was done, Emilia opened the cage’s slot. Continuing the routine with a heavy heart, Hugo returned the empty paper plate and paper cup to the slot, and Emilia quickly slipped them back outside. The treadmill then whirred to life, remotely activated like always. And Hugo almost welcomed it in a fit of desperation_ — _anything to pull him away from Emilia’s words and his own thoughts and memories and stupid instincts, he’d take the run, he’d take anything_ —

_“Get on,” Emilia ordered. Hugo obeyed as quickly as he could. She did not need to tell him twice._

Hugo’s hand twisted in the dirt, and he breathed harshly. Kipo mewled, and that calmed him. It...it didn’t matter, he had to find food for his sister.

Taking a deep breath, he resumed foraging, by whatever means necessary. He felt bits of himself fall away again, while others rose up. The mandrill found a promising patch of bushes. To his disappointment, he found nothing obvious like berries. He tested the leaves, but they didn’t seem too substantial. He began digging up the roots of the bushes. He experimentally tasted one, and felt satisfied. This would work.

Hugo sat down and settled Kipo on the ground. She was propped up by his knees and sheltered between them too. He bit off a piece of one root, chewed it for a bit, then pulled it out and offered the piece to his baby sister. She bit into it, but her little brows furrowed. Before Hugo was about to take it back to soften it up some more, Kipo opened her mouth wide. Little fangs popped out from her gums, and then clamped back down on the root.

Only thinking of feeding her, the mandrill worked on preparing another root while Kipo finished her first one. And he didn’t feel too surprised; babies should be able to eat like this already....

He paused after he gave Kipo her second root. Wait. He wasn’t...thinking of human babies. He had been thinking of babies...more like him. Mandrill babies.

Hugo startled when Kipo whined, and he quickly chewed up another root, then gave it to her. Humans were primates like mandrills, he told himself. Maybe his old, buried instincts had more use than he thought...but did they really go that deep? He had never met other mandrills before...but something almost primal gave him some small idea of what to do with a baby, and what to try to forage for food.

When his own stomach started to rumble, Hugo forced himself to eat. He needed food too. It was imperative he kept his strength up for Kipo and while looking for their parents.

After they ate what roots Hugo could find, Kipo purred. She then started climbing up his chest, holding his fur tight. Giving a small smile, Hugo lowered his head a bit for her.

He remembered the wounds on his head too late. Fortunately, Kipo hadn’t even grazed them so far. She eventually laid a chubby hand on his ear, and started to pet it. When she started to tug on it, he gently but firmly took her wrist and pulled it away.

Shaking his head at her, he gently told her “No.”

Kipo shook her head back at him, copying him—and when she was done, her head had sprouted longer ears that drooped down a little. On the top of her new ears was a coat of dark velvet fur, while underneath was lighter pink fur.

Hugo gently stroked those with wonder, thinking they were a little like his own ears, but far bigger and more floppy. In any case, they resembled his ears more than Song’s or Lio’s or any other human’s, and they were different from what Kipo had before. Human babies were astounding, and his sister was the best one.

Then Hugo picked Kipo up again, and went looking for water. As time dragged on and Hugo started to search more frantically, he finally found the ruins of a large fountain. Its sculpture of a fish was cracked and its spout was chipped; but the central, circular base of the fountain remained. It was filled with what Hugo assumed was a collection of rainwater that kept growing over time.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Hugo cupped some water with one hand, then tipped it toward Kipo’s already waiting mouth. Her new floppy ears perked up slightly as she eagerly and quickly lapped it up, but Hugo frowned.

He wished he had a way of giving her more water at once, but he couldn’t think of anything. He had no bottle to fill up with water, and he hadn’t found anything like it yet. There was no more time to keep searching at the moment, Kipo needed to quench her thirst now. Hugo couldn’t make her wait any longer.

He could try looking for a bottle and any other supplies later...but even if he managed to find anything useful, how would he even carry them? He had one spare arm for holding anything, and that was reserved for Kipo. He’d lost Lio’s backpack, and likely all the supplies their father had prepared in advance.

With a mix of guilt and worry and determination, Hugo continued to gradually give Kipo water, repeatedly cupping water in his hand and lifting it to her waiting mouth. The baby didn’t seem to mind the slow process at all; when she stopped, apparently sated, she gave a pleased purr. Then she happily babbled, and Hugo looked down at her. Her face had stretched slightly into something more like a naked snout, with her nose and mouth now shaped like kittens he’d seen in picture books.

He nuzzled her new snout, and the laugh that pulled out of her made Hugo feel better about everything for a moment.

After that, Hugo carefully cradled his sister in one arm, and lowered his head to drink some water himself. Then with a grimace and with his free hand, he cupped some water in his palm and tried to clean his wounds. Hugo grit his fangs, trying not to make a noise that would alarm his sister. Though he had got to all the gashes on his head and neck, it still felt like he gave up when he stopped. He washed his hand and tried drying it in the fur of his chest. Disappointment weighed down his stomach. That hadn’t felt effective at all, and it only stung more. He was reluctant to keep trying at the moment.

Hugo frowned at his reflection in the water, eyes fixed on the gashes ripped out of various parts of his face and neck. He didn’t know what he was doing. The young mandrill had tried to remember what Song did when he cut himself by accident once while making a collage like the Old World artist Matisse did. She had cleaned his cut, she had bandaged him...he was certain he was missing something. Well, he was missing the obvious—bandages, his mother....

Hugo clenched his jaw and drew Kipo close again. He hooted softly to her, stroking the back of her head and ears. Hugo felt this was more for him than his sister at this point, though she did give a pleased purr. He was lucky she was here with him.

When Kipo reached for his other hand, he gave it to her. She wrapped her small hand around one of his fingers. Finally her claw tips retracted, disappearing. Her face shrunk too, back to what he had first seen her with. Her ears stayed long, drooping, and furry. Her arms were still covered in fur too. Giving a small smile, the mandrill nuzzled the top of her head. His dear sister....

Again Hugo wondered if this was something human babies grew out of, the fur and the like. He’d never seen anything of the sort on Lio or Song or any other human. Or maybe this was something humans could differ on, like they did with hair and skin and other things, and he’d just never seen a human with fur like Kipo before. Maybe some humans were more similar to primates like him. Maybe Kipo was one of those.

The claws were a little confusing though. Humans were primates, and Hugo had been thinking Kipo was a primate closer to him, one with fur and fangs and such. But the claws and the way her nose and mouth briefly changed pointed to different animals.

His baby sister then put one fist in her mouth and began sucking on it, and Hugo marveled at how darling she was. Then a new concern entered his mind. Her pink and spotted fur poked out from a small, sleeveless jumpsuit Lio had clearly dressed her in. No, they were more like little overalls...still, he was more familiar with jumpsuits, that was all he had ever seen his parents and other humans in, except for the occasional jacket or that capelet Song took to wearing while pregnant.

The thought of wearing clothes had always fascinated Hugo, but he also had some lingering reservations about it. What if it were uncomfortable to have clothes over all his fur? He imagined that posed no problem to furless humans. But Kipo had fur.

Was she uncomfortable right now? He looked at her more closely. She seemed unconcerned, just chewing on her fist. Then she pulled it out and started patting his jaw while she happily babbled to him.

“Oh really? How fascinating,” Hugo said, teasing and playful. Her hand was a little wet, but his baby sister was just too sweet. His response seemed to please Kipo, who giggled and then started babbling even faster.

His chest felt lighter, and again Hugo was grateful to have his sister with him. She was far too little to talk and offer more company, but he wasn’t entirely alone as long as she was around. He had to find their parents, but taking time to tend to her needs offered more of a reprieve than he had realized. It was also a relief that she was too young to really understand the severity of the situation. She had rightfully cried a lot when things turned frightening; but when things calmed down somewhat, terror didn’t seem to linger with her like it did with him, and Hugo was grateful for that. He didn’t want his sister to be so thoroughly scared; and it was nice to be with someone who didn’t grasp the full danger and could be unwittingly calm.

His gaze fell on Kipo’s clothing agan. Fur poked out of it on her arms. His brow furrowed, considering. The shoulder straps on her jumpsuit had buttons, making it seem like it would be easy to put on and take off. He would probably have to figure out her clothes sooner rather than later, for when he had to try cleaning her up and such.

Then he stroked Kipo’s hair on the side of her head, another instinct bubbling up. Stepping off the fountain, he sat down and leaned against it, then propped Kipo up between his knees again. He started carefully smoothing and spreading her hair apart, beginning to groom her. In response, Kipo started to purr.

This was new for Kipo, but not entirely for him. Before Emilia’s cage, Song had let Hugo groom her hair too, and she had groomed his fur, and she had given him a whole lecture about social grooming among nonhuman primates. She had also let him play with her hair more, and showed him how to braid it or simply tie it up with an elastic band.

Sometimes she’d even let him tie ribbons in her hair, though she always had to remove them before leaving the room. Song and Lio had been concerned that even ribbons could attract unwanted attention, as that accessory had never been part of Song’s style, and she wasn’t prone to changing it.

Lio’s haircut had been too short for meaningful grooming, but he still groomed Hugo sometimes.

It had been one of the things the mandrill had always enjoyed with his parents. Song was right, it felt very natural and pleasant for Hugo. It was one of many things he had desperately missed while in Emilia’s cage....

Hugo’s stomach started to sink again at the thought of his parents and Emilia. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on Kipo instead. He was finished with her hair. After that, the mandrill turned his attention back to her clothing. He unbuttoned her jumpsuit’s shoulder straps, intending to groom the rest of her fur. 

With the straps unfastened, Hugo slipped the upper part of Kipo’s small jumpsuit down to her waist. Besides her arms, fur ran down her chest and belly and over her back too. Hugo started grooming her shoulders, then her arms. All the while, his sister continued to softly rumble with a very pleased purr. He knew she’d like grooming too.

When he started on her belly, Kipo stilled and her eyes focused. She was watching something. Her ears pricked up again, though higher this time. And her eyes changed. The sclera turned from white to pink, and the iris darkened and narrowed to slits. The mandrill turned to see what Kipo was watching, and realized she was fixated on a small horned chipmunk with one eye, like a miniature cyclops from Old World stories.

Then his baby sister completely _shifted_ , and leapt out of the star blanket and over his knees as a pink kitten with her claws out and tail flying.

Hugo immediately lunged for her but missed. Kipo-the-kitten slipped through his desperate grab and pounced for the chipmunk.

She landed and missed too. The chipmunk was scrambling away, and Kipo chased after him again. Hugo grasped for her and missed once more. Finally, unthinking and with instinct seizing him, the mandrill sprang on the chipmunk himself. Hugo crunched down with his fangs, tasting something wet and metallic. He felt faintly nauseous.

He lifted his head with the chipmunk’s hind legs sticking out of his mouth, and found Kipo approached him this time. She sat down on her new haunches, with her new tail wagging back-and-forth along the ground. Kipo waited, expectant.

Hugo looked down at her, and tried to ignore the small animal’s blood pooling in his mouth. This was Kipo, no doubt about it. He had caught a glimpse of her transforming, there had been some wavy flash of light and color that curled around her. His sister’s fur remained pink and spotted. It was just everywhere now, she had a tail now, and she was entirely shaped like a kitten now.

Her eyes were a familiar enough pink, and shone with a light that recognized him. 

Starting to feel as if his sister was something like a fairy tale from some books he’d read, Hugo picked her up and held her close. Kipo didn’t resist, and nuzzled closer to him. When the mandrill was certain he had a good grip on her with one arm, he plucked the chipmunk from his jaws with his remaining hand.

He held the poor, dead creature before her, then pulled it away when she reached for it with her new snout. “Don’t get away from me like that again,” he tried to say as firmly as Lio, but was honestly at a loss. Was this even the best response? Again he wished their parents were here. They would know what to do.

But Hugo would have to make do until he found them. He gave the chipmunk to Kipo and watched her happily devour it. As she chewed, she shifted again, and this time Hugo saw more of the bizarre process—a wavy, ribbon-like burst of pink color enveloped her then slipped away before he could even react with worried alarm, and when it was gone there was Kipo as he’d first seen her before. Even her small jumpsuit was back, slipped down to her waist. He didn’t understand how her clothes remained, but he was grateful they did, there was no easy replacement for them _and what was going on?_

Could humans completely change their shape like that?

Hugo hugged his sister close, nuzzling her as she continued to feed. The mandrill belatedly realized his heart was slowing, so it must’ve been racing before. That made sense, he had been worried she was going to run off and get lost or hurt or worse.

He pulled back a little and stroked the hair on her head and the fur on her ears. She swallowed the last of her food and happily babbled at him, but he didn’t playfully respond this time. Hugo was falling deep in thought.

The mandrill had assumed this was typical of human babies. But maybe it wasn’t. If this wasn’t typical, it was unique, something that would draw attention...like Emilia’s—

Heart suddenly threatening to burst, Hugo curled around Kipo, trembling and starting to breathe heavily. For a few horrible seconds he was back on that treadmill in the cage, he was back with the needles biting into him—and then he tore himself away from the memories, but felt no less terrified. The thought of Emilia ever getting her hands on his sister had become infinitely more horrifying; before he had been frightened when it had just been the thought of Emilia separating them and giving Kipo up to the care of some other humans to punish Lio and Song. Now the thought of Emilia putting his sister through anything like what he endured was an absolute nightmare, and wholly unbearable to even consider.

When Kipo started to whine, Hugo flinched, and began to uncurl from around her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and nuzzled her head again. His baby sister didn’t whine again, just started quickly babbling.

As he tried to get his breathing back under control, Hugo kept thinking. If this wasn’t typical, how could this have happened? With a lurch in his stomach, Hugo remembered Lio and Song talking a little about the world-wide mutation when teaching him some history. They had told him the animals and plants had mysteriously mutated to varying degrees. Song had pointed out with a thoughtful frown that humans didn’t mutate though, and called it another mystery worth pondering, in spite of what some of her colleagues or post-Old World literature might say.

Lio and Song had obviously failed to mention that they had only given him intelligence and mutated him in an effort to figure out what altered everyone else, and they had done so in the hopes that they could reverse it and remove the intelligence of countless beings....

Hugo tried shoving the lingering pain of that revelation away. They had changed their minds, it was fine now, it...and besides, the main thing was...right now, at this very moment, the main takeaway was Song saying humans had never mutated like everyone else.

But maybe they did, and it was just rare? Maybe Kipo was a rare instance of humans mutating like the majority of the world?

When his sister started to yawn, Hugo wrapped her tighter in the star blanket, and stroked the side of her head. If it wasn’t a rare instance of natural mutation among humans, what else could it be?

His stomach sank as an alternative did occur to him. Even if Lio and Song had changed their minds about trying to take away the intelligence of mutes, there was still Emilia and the other humans. Maybe they had tried other experiments, and Song got contaminated by accident?

Hugo remembered Song telling him a story of a small accident in the labs, how a colleague got contaminated with some itchy and burning chemical. Lio had told her to stop, worried it would trouble Hugo. Though Song had insisted it wasn’t bad and that everything turned out fine, she still listened to Lio. So the mandrill had never heard the whole tale beyond Song quickly concluding with the assurance that their colleague was fine after a visit to the infirmary.

Maybe something like that had happened, but even more severe. Maybe Song had gotten contaminated with someone else’s experiment focused on trying to isolate the mutagen, and that had infected Kipo too? If isolating the mutagen revolved around triggering it to identify it—trying to figure out the science behind this still confused Hugo—then some mistake with an experiment geared toward that could possibly explain Kipo’s mutation, if she had gotten contaminated through Song in a lab accident.

If someone else’s experiment meant to trigger mutation contaminated Song, then she and Kipo could’ve been mutated instead. But Hugo had never seen anything like fur on Song—maybe it was an accident with Song, but it ended up only affecting Kipo because she had been growing inside Song’s stomach and been more vulnerable?

Watching Kipo start to fall asleep, Hugo sighed. These questions were going nowhere. For now it didn’t matter why Kipo was like this, or how it could’ve happened. What did matter was that Emilia might target her, so Hugo had to be even more careful with his sister. He had to protect her.

Kipo sleepily buried herself deeper in the star blanket, and Hugo adjusted the fabric so that it didn’t cover her mouth and nose. Then a new concern entered his mind: where to sleep for the night?

Hugo glanced around, eyes still stung by how bright the sun shone. Daylight remained, but Kipo needed her rest, and she’d already been through so much after just being born. At least Lio and Song had told Hugo that babies actually slept a lot. It was something they brought up when he started excitedly talking about the different games he and the baby would play together.

He could try going back to the burrow ruins and look for Lio and Song again. But Hugo thought it might be better to figure out where he and his sister would be sleeping tonight, and let her nap more peacefully there. And unfortunately, Hugo was starting to feel tired too. Perhaps his adrenaline was dropping.

The mandrill started looking around again, his first instinct seeking a tree to sleep in. The trees on the buildings still seemed terrifyingly high up, and he was too nervous to attempt climbing while carrying his baby sister. But there had to be some of them lower down.

Holding a sleeping Kipo close, Hugo searched, and figured he would try to look for Lio and Song again tomorrow. He even started to hope that maybe their parents weren’t hurt, that they were just lost and looking for them too. If that was the case, Lio and Song would find them as long as Hugo stayed close to the site of the wrecked burrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking plenty of liberties with science, but then again the world in the show is already wonderfully bizarre. Just imagining Kipo’s a mutated baby who’s developing even faster in this situation, and with more jaguar cub traits kicking in faster to help her survive better, and to fit in better with her primary guardian now, a full-blooded mandrill. I definitely took inspiration from a cute video the LA Zoo had about their mandrill babies. I just keep imagining Hugo/Scarl having more mandrill instincts triggered while with baby Kipo, treating her like a mandrill baby, a younger mandrill sibling in his care. Been also thinking that while it’s been suggested that Kipo in canon struggles with animal instincts rising up, it would be neat to also have animal instincts rise up and be more benignly useful, hence part of this fic. Speaking of Kipo’s animal instincts, or more like her mega mute jaguar instincts—they’re continuing to trigger more to help her better survive, not with literal protection but also just making sure she can eat what Hugo feeds her and also generally responding to him as a fellow mutated animal and trying to mimic him. Also as always poor Hugo--it's inconceivable for him to even imagine that Lio and Song willingly experimented on Kipo; if she's like this and if it's because of something done to her, it must've been someone else that did this....


End file.
